


fright night drabbles

by nicotinedaydream



Category: Fright Night (2011)
Genre: M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2019-10-25 14:58:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 2,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17727389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicotinedaydream/pseuds/nicotinedaydream
Summary: A collection of Fright Night drabbles.





	1. Chapter 1

Jerry's been around for a long time; long enough to understand that humans, no matter how hard they try to fight, think they're going to win, are small and helpless when it comes to protecting the ones they care about from forces far superior than their own.

Charley Brewster is no different, is just like the rest of his kind. He's a stubborn guy, sure, Jerry will give him that, but he's still an idiot whose silly little infatuation clouds his judgement.

It was amusing, at first.

Charley, head-over-heels for this girl, _Amy_ , who definitely was not in his league—you know, as the children say these days. Where the blonde stank of popularity, love, attention… all he could smell on the boy was neglect. Real potent stuff, too. Charley was suffering, trapped in his own personal hell, while his girlfriend had not a single care in the world.

They weren't built to last, not at all… not in this life.

So, Jerry took it upon himself to resolve that dilemma. If Charley wasn't going to wake up and see that the roses were artificial, plastic, fake,  _not real_ , then he was just going to have to knock some sense into the guy himself.

He'd expected a fight, he always does, but he hadn't expected the kid to fight fire with _fire_.


	2. Chapter 2

A challenge; that was all Charley ever was.

Jerry, well, he's started to become too laidback—staying in at night to browse the television for tasteless entertainment rather than the streets for juicy appetisers, and often people watching during the day instead of sucking dry the pathetic whores in his white rooms (however, the second one _had_ been the reason Charley came across his sights, so Jerry's not going to knock that lifestyle change just yet).

Blood in this town wasn't hard to obtain, those dim-witted high school kids and clueless locals no match for his smart manipulation on the nights he came out of his house to pick his dinner for the next few days. Jerry bides his time, keeping an eye on the neighbour, his mother, his _'girlfriend'_ …

Until, one night, Charley comes knocking on his door.

Jerry looks the kid up and down, appreciates the view he's only been catching close-but-not-close-enough glimpses of these past weeks, and puts on his most charming smile.

"Hey, guy. What can I do for you?"

Jerry might have grown bored, complacent, perhaps, but he intends to play with his food tonight.


	3. Chapter 3

Jerry is a creature of habit.

Blood and sex are both primal urges, one needed for his survival, the latter… less so, but an easy convenience he has grown to hunger for just as badly—and when one can disassociate the fine line between pleasure and pain, screams of terror from cries of ecstasy, only then does the real fun begin.

Charley, Charley, Charley; the boy is ripe, his scent infectious, catching on the air under his nose. Jerry nearly lets his fangs drop right there, under the flirting eyes of the kid's mother and girlfriend. He has to bite down on his gums, taste the stale but heady taste of his own blood to compose himself before things get ugly.

That night, once Ed is dealt with, he drains a whore from off the streets—Jessica might have been her name, but all that's not important now—and he thinks of Charley. He thinks of the boy's smell, and sinking his teeth into him; first his mouth, slicing soft flesh and licking up the aftertaste, then the throat, ripping and tearing and _feeding_ until the kid's body is limp enough for other activities.

Jessica—hm, no, maybe that hadn't been her name—goes slack in his grip, unseeing eyes staring straight ahead. He groans, releases his fangs from her dry artery, before wiping the leftover blood across his face, wet fingers trailing over his lips, tongue darting out to chase the flavour of what was once a good time, but won't be another's again.

Charley is in his bed sound asleep when Jerry stands in his backyard, looking up at the kid's window. He's twisted in the sheets, mouth open, snoring, and his bare throat shines under the faint glimmer of moonlight.

 _Fuck, guy_ , he thinks, pressing the heel of his hand to the hard, growing bulge in his pants as he imagines those plush lips wrapped around his cock, his hands on that pale neck; the power, the control, the  _struggle_.

Yes, he's going to enjoy breaking this one.


	4. Chapter 4

"W-What do you want from me?" Charley rasps, breaths thin and frail around the crushing grip Jerry has on his throat. Jerry flexes his fingers, just to feel the kid choke, feet kicking uselessly at his legs.

"Oh, I'm surprised you haven't figured it out yet, Charley," he chuckles, leaning in to inhale the boy's scent. He groans against Charley's skin, mouth pressed to the fluttering pulse, racing with teenage hormones and all the good stuff that makes a vampire's meal worth the wait.

Charley's eyes widen a bit more at the insinuation, his body wriggling harder as he tries to escape. It's no use, he must know that, but Jerry suspects this one is not one to back down without a fight, however short and weak. Guy's got guts. He likes that.

"Let me tell you what I'm going to do, kid," he says, trivial, to the point.

Charley stops struggling and goes limp in defeat. Jerry's got him pinned to the wall, trapped, and his throat swallows with difficultly at the hand pushing firm against his windpipe.  

"You're going to be a good boy for me while I drink that sweet, sweet blood of yours, hm. Maybe when I'm done, I can be good for you too. How does that sound, guy?" Jerry presses his other hand to the kid's crotch, squeezing, and Charley whimpers. Pathetic, but oh so satisfying.

Charley nods feebly, closing his eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

Charley arches under his heavy ministrations, naked and trembling, stomach stretched taut and throat an open invitation. Jerry sinks his fangs in, glides his nails down the boy's back, leaving marks he's sure won't heal for weeks. He drinks, and drinks, and drinks some more as he fucks Charley into the bed, growling against the boy's throat, blood smearing his mouth, dripping onto their chests, bathing them in slick warmth.

Later, when Jerry's finished feeding and finding release, he slips his fangs out of the kid's neck and admires the debauched mess he's created; Charley, his back littered in red-lined scratches, eyes pleading, cock limp, breaths weak from blood loss.

"You should see yourself, guy," he murmurs, low. He gives Charley's cock a teasing stroke, chuckles at the thready moan from oversensitivity, and smirks as he does it again.

"Please, kill me," Charley whispers, voice hoarse.

And, well, Jerry _is_ a man of his word. Just not yet.

This is far too interesting. 


	6. Chapter 6

Jerry has never considered himself to be a gentle lover—far from it, actually—but there are those rare nights where he just wants to take Charley nice and good, deep and slow, and make it last as many times as possible until the poor boy faints from exhaustion. 

Charley moans so loud and pretty on those nights, thighs latching around Jerry's hips almost as tight as he is around Jerry's cock. Jerry will watch the boy's eyelids flutter, delicate and beautiful, fanning across his cheekbones, and stroke him through each languid roll of his hips.

"J-Jer—" Charley gasps, stomach contracting with sharp inhales and exhales, pressed against Jerry's own, and Jerry smiles.

"Such a good boy, Charley," he murmurs, voice a silky purr as he pushes in and stays, still and solid, before gently undulating his hips and rubbing his cock into the boy's prostate.

Charley mewls, helpless from the onslaught of sensation, hands grabbing at his shoulders as he bucks in Jerry's lap. Jerry soothes and shushes him, pets his spurting dick as it makes a mess between them.

"N-No, s-s-stop—" Charley whimpers and groans weakly as Jerry continues to abuse his prostate and fondle his oversensitive cock. "J-J-Jerry, _p-please_!"

Jerry chuckles, resting his other hand on Charley's chest, over his thrumming heart, and shuts his eyes; pays close attention to the tight, warm pulse of the boy's insides as he's milked by Jerry's cock. He lets his fangs slide out, growling as he hears Charley keen, desperate, frantic, heartbeat under his palm a wild and furious rhythm.

"Going to fill you up, guy, so full. Are you ready?" he whispers, voice rough behind his fangs, and Charley whimpers his name pathetically. Jerry sighs in release, his hand a steady tug and pull on Charley's dick as he circles his hips. 

Charley doesn't stop shaking and whining, even after Jerry has come in him two more times, his cock a soft and wet mess on his belly, his thighs streaked in Jerry's fluids as it trickles out of his sloppy hole. His eyes are bleary with tears, and he looks about ready to pass out.

Jerry taps a finger on the boy's cock and it jerks, a useless twitch. Charley lets out a small, choking moan.

"Too much?" Jerry smirks, strokes his hand through the boy's sweaty hair, and then down his madly heaving chest. "Don't worry, Charley," he says, a low reassurance, the boy squirming in his lap. "I'm not finished with you just yet."

Charley's breathless, high-pitched squeal of oversensitivity is music to Jerry's ears as he easily slips into the boy's loose and stretched hole, beginning the slow and gentle process of milking his prostate once more. 


	7. Chapter 7

Jerry loves Charley's noises.

Charley's loud shudder of breath when a gentle scrape of Jerry's teeth against his throat becomes the sharp glide of a razor.

Charley's quiet hiss as Jerry's fangs pierce into his flesh.

Charley's garbled whines when Jerry teases the open wound with his tongue.

Charley's indignant squawk as Jerry forces him down onto the bed and rips the clothes from his body.

Charley's soft little whimper when Jerry spreads his thighs and licks over his hole.

Charley's choked groans as Jerry fingers him.

Charley's ashamed moan when Jerry thrusts in.

Charley's surprised and breathless grunt as Jerry fucks him through his first orgasm.

Charley's dry sobs when he's had enough but Jerry's only just getting started.

Charley's heaving sighs as he's too limp and fucked-out to do anything but lie there and take it.

Jerry loves Charley's noises, but his favourite…

"Jerry," Charley gasps, throat muscles raw from all his screaming seconds earlier.

Jerry smirks and rubs the boy's cock, the poor thing struggling to maintain its hardness. He makes sure he's snug and tight in Charley, right up against the prostate, and grinds his hips. 

" _Jerry_!" Charley wails again.

Ah, yes, his favourite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a dirty whore lord help me


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sex in or on Jerry's truck.
> 
> I've had this prompt thingy saved from the Fright Night kink meme on LiveJournal for ages. Finally decided to do something dirty about it.

Charley is breathtaking like this, his pale skin soft and supple under the moonlight, his deer eyes big and wide, his lean and gangly limbs spread out on the hood of Jerry's truck. Jerry slaps a cruel hand on his stomach, then lifts his thighs up into the air, pulls them around his shoulders, rocks against him, and the boy's hole swallows the head of his cock with a shuddery twitch.

"Jeez, kid, you're _tight_ ," he growls, listening to Charley's hitched cries as he's stretched open. He knows not to struggle, fight back; take it all like a good boy, is what he needs to do.

Jerry brings the fingers of his other hand to Charley's throat, caresses the straining bob of his Adam's apple, and slides himself in deeper.

"Ah!" Charley yelps, high and wobbly, thighs spasming where they're hanging over Jerry’s shoulders. Jerry lets his hips settle, for a second, before he gives them a thrust. Charley’s tight little hole clenches down greedily when he bumps up against the boy’s prostate. " _Aaaaah_!"

"Loud, aren't you," he purrs, and Charley moans, almost in agreement, as Jerry smacks his ass. "Not as loud as your pussy, huh." He smacks it again, just to hear the satisfying sound of flesh meeting flesh, followed by Charley's pained whine.

Virgins always come fast.

Jerry expects it, revels in the feeling, when Charley starts to buck and whimper, getting tighter and tighter as his orgasm approaches, and a final hard thrust, rubbing over his prostate, has the kid making a goddamn awful mess of himself; cock kicking to life, spurting white ribbons, one after another, painting his heaving chest and pink nipples.

Charley _does_ start to struggle, once he realises that Jerry isn't going to stop fucking him. He sobs and flails, attempting to break free, no doubt oversensitive. Jerry chuckles, splaying a hand across Charley's throat, squeezing with enough force to cause a panicked gasp.

"Don't ruin the fun now, guy. Were doing so well, hm?" he murmurs, grins wickedly at the fear in the boy's eyes as his breath stutters to a halt. He continues thrusting, rolling his hips up, pressing in as far as he can go before there's resistance.

By the time he eventually comes, pumping the boy full, until it's dripping out of him and running down the truck's paintwork, shiny and wet, Charley is an unconscious heap on his hood; limp, used, and the picture-perfect image of a broken china doll.

If there even was anything innocent left to destroy in this pitiful world, Jerry is pretty sure he's already found the last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Link to the kink meme forum if any of you are interested in reading some porn or wanna throw one of the prompts at me: https://frightnight2011.livejournal.com/718.html


End file.
